


A Scandal, An Exile, A Snarky Blond Delivery Man and Three Reindeer

by sassy_cissa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 14:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6911491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cissa/pseuds/sassy_cissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's a man to do when he's unceremoniously <i>outed</i> in the <i>Prophet</i>?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Scandal, An Exile, A Snarky Blond Delivery Man and Three Reindeer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [capitu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/capitu/gifts).



> Written for Glompfest 2016 on LJ. A gift for Capitu, written with love.

A Scandal, An Exile, A Snarky Blond Delivery Man and Three Reindeer

Harry looked down in disbelief at that day's issue of The Daily Prophet. He hadn't even had a cup of tea yet, and when he unrolled the copy of the newspaper that had just been delivered via owl post, there was his face plastered under the headline " _Harry Potter Caught in Illicit Gay Trist with Muggle!!!_ " Horrified, he stared at the grainy photograph above the fold. 

He wasn't ashamed of his sexuality; quite the contrary, he'd been out to his friends and family since he'd been in his early twenties. But he didn't believe it was anyone else's fucking business. And he sure as hell didn't want complete strangers finding out about his private business via the front page of the bloody Prophet! Grabbing up the newspaper he stared at the photo, and his heart sank. Seeing Skeeter's by-line didn't help any.

"Harry Potter, the 'boy who saved us all' has always had issues of personal character. You'll remember this reporter's expose's when he was in his fifth year at Hogwarts, bringing to light his dangerously unhinged behavior. When his Godfather, convicted murderer Sirius Black died at the Ministry of Magic under mysterious circumstances at the end of that year, then his mentor Albus Dumbledore was killed the following year, many questioned whether the young man was fit to be called 'The Chosen One''. Even though he did ultimately fulfill his destiny, new information has come to light about what Mister Potter does in his spare time, and I believe the wizarding world has a right to know…

Under the lurid, infuriating paragraph was the moving photo. It showed two men in a close embrace; leaning against the wall in the alley beside the back door to the Muggle club where he'd spent the evening. And there was no way he could even deny it was him; they'd caught him and the blond Muggle, whose name he didn't remember, kissing passionately. As the photo finished and then looped back to the beginning, it showed Harry's cheeks hollowing as his tongue moved in the man's mouth, then he leaned back slightly, his face clearly visible as his hand slid down to squeeze the man's round arse. 

"Son of a bitch," Harry snarled, throwing the paper down. He went to Muggle clubs intentionally, so no one in the Wizarding world would see him. He didn't date wizards in order to protect himself and whoever he might be seeing from the ravenous wizard press. Hermione kept trying to tell him not to hide, but how could he do that when Skeeter was still reporting his every fucking move? And now, they'd figured out how to trace him into Muggle London, and he was all over the front page of the sodding newspaper!

His hands went to his head, fingers clenching in his hair. Gods, what did he do now? They'd never leave him alone again.

A frenzied tapping began at his kitchen window and Harry turned, glaring through the glass. His heart sank when he saw what waited there.

Hovering outside were at least a dozen owls, all of them holding envelopes and half of them were bright red. Queuing up behind those birds were more and as he watched, still more flew into view. 

Harry rolled his eyes closed. "Fuck," he hissed. 

That seemed to sum up his morning rather succinctly. 

Grabbing his wand off the table, he turned and with a concussive 'pop' disappeared from his flat.

hdhdhd

Harry landed unsteadily outside of Ron and Hermione's house. The little bungalow was located outside of Upper Flagley in Yorkshire. After their marriage, Hermione had declared they would not live in Ottery St Catchpole. According to her, the Floo network was close enough proximity for her in-laws, thank you very much. Theirs was a lovely brick home and with any luck far enough from his flat in London, Harry hoped, that no Owls would find him. 

Walking up the stone path, Harry heard Ron attempting to shush his two-year-old daughter, Rose, through the open sitting room window. Harry smiled, praying that Hermione wasn't up yet and that Ron had been too busy keeping Rose occupied to look at _The Prophet_ yet. The last thing he needed or wanted was Hermione's _I told you so_. Not that she ever would in so many words, but one look would be all it took for Harry to be telling her she was right…yet again.

Harry knocked softly on the door before trying the knob and poking his head inside. The resulting shriek from his goddaughter on seeing him eliminated any hopes he had that even if Hermione was still in bed, she'd remain there.

"Hawwy!" Rose called out, running for the door. Harry stepped inside just in time to be tackled around the knees by the squealing shock of tangled long red hair. Clearly, Ron hadn't bothered with a brush yet this morning. "You here!"

Harry bent down, grasped Rose under her arms and swung her onto his hip. "I am," he replied with a laugh. With his free hand he brushed some of the long strands from her big blue eyes. 

"Eksimo kiss," Rose demanded, grabbing his cheeks and rubbing her little button nose firmly against Harry's. He smiled, and she pressed little fingers into the dimples on either side of his mouth. They'd had many serious conversations about the 'dents' her favorite godfather had in his face.

"Hey, mate," Ron said, entering the foyer. "What brings you here at ars…," Ron looked at his daughter, the words stalling. He cleared his throat. "I mean, this early on a Sunday morning?"

Harry kissed Rose on her forehead and set her on the floor, sparing a glance at the still rolled up copy of the Prophet on the table. Ron, who had always been brighter than anyone gave him credit for, intercepted the look, a frown creasing his brow.

"What's happened now?" he asked.

Harry opened his mouth to respond, then stopped when he heard light footsteps approaching down the hallway. Rose heard them too, and ran toward them with a squeal.

"Mummy!" 

Hermione appeared in the doorway and bent at the waist to push gently at Rose's mad curls when she wrapped her little arms around her mother's knees. Hermione was wearing a long pale blue terrycloth dressing gown, and her hair was up in a messy bun, her face devoid of makeup behind glasses he rarely saw her wear anymore. She looked much as she had at eleven, and Harry smiled. She glanced up at her husband, one brow arching. "Hairbrush, Ronald?" He held up his hands palm out. 

"I tried, love. She wasn't having any of it."

Hermione sighed, then gave Harry a slightly tired smile.

"Good morning," she said. "Bit early for you, isn't it?"

"Uhm," Harry wiped his palms on the denim covering his thighs, "I was up."

"It's something in the _Prophet_ " Ron said. Harry gave him an exasperated look. "What? I saw you looking at the paper. And it's why you're here, isn't it? That something went tits up again?"

"What's ‘tits up', Mummy?" Rose asked brightly.

Hermione sent Ron a withering look Harry was glad he wasn't on the receiving end of. 

"It means your daddy hasn't the sense of a squirrel."

"Hey," Ron complained. 

"You know she's like a sponge right now, Ronald." She shook her head, then swung her tiny daughter up onto her hip. "Tea, Harry?"

"Have you any coffee?" he asked. 

Hermione shook her head. "You're the most unnatural Englishman I've ever met, but yes, I have coffee. I even have some of those almond biscotti you love."

"You're the best, Hermione."

She rolled her eyes. "Bring the paper," she instructed, brooking no argument. "Let's get to the bottom of this."

Hermione turned and left the room, carrying on a soft conversation with her daughter, and Ron lingered, picking up the paper and waiting for Harry. "She's a force of nature, my girl," he said under his breath. Harry nodded. Disagreeing wouldn't make it any less so.

"Always has been," he agreed, and they trailed Hermione and the happily chattering toddler into the kitchen.

Settling Rose in her wooden high chair, Hermione turned to the hob, lighting the fire beneath the kettle. She then went to a coffee maker on a corner of the counter and opened the top, slipping in a filter and spooning coffee from a canister. After adding water she snapped the lid shut, then turned to Harry, who'd taken a seat at the table. She held out her hand. 

"Let me have it."

Harry's fingers tightened around it for a moment. He glanced at Rose meaningfully, and Hermione's brows arched. 

"Ron, could you get Rose some of that nasty fruity cereal that I'm quite sure rots her teeth?"

"O-ee-oo's!" Rose shouted, banging on the high chair tray. Ron stood up after giving his wife a wry look.

"I want you to know," Hermione said archly to Harry, "that we'll be dealing with the resulting sugar high for the rest of the afternoon, but she loves them so much we could talk about almost anything without her noticing. _This_ is how much I love you. Now hand it over."

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, marshaling his resolve, then held out the paper as Rose crowed in delight over her little round bits of sparkling sugar. Ron had put them in a small bowl, but he needn't have bothered. The moment he set it down she tipped the cereal onto the tray and began chasing the tiny bits with her little fingers.

Hermione snapped the paper open and then froze when her eyes took in the front page. He watched her eyes move over the photo and felt his face heat. 

"Blond," she muttered, one corner of her lip quirking. "You are consistent."

"Shut up," he said without heat.

Ron walked over to look over her shoulder, and whistled between his teeth. "Above the fold, yet. And my, my, look at the man's technique."

Harry leaned his face into his hands. "I may spontaneously combust."

"Harry, if you'd just been out to begin with…" Hermione began.

"I know, I know," he said, letting his hands fall to the table top. "And you know why I wasn't. These bloody people won't leave me alone, and Skeeter is the worst."

"I know she is," Hermione replied gently. "But if you'd announced this years ago, she wouldn't have any traction with it now."

He sighed. "Okay, fine. You're right. But I wasn't out and now, completely without my permission, I might add… I am. So what do I do?"

"I suppose suggesting you make a statement is out of the question?" Hermione arched a brow.

Harry sighed and let his head drop back, staring at the ceiling. "Do you think that would get them to back off?"

"No," Hermione and Ron answered together, and Harry glared at them. 

"Harry, like it or not, this is news. And you posed so accommodatingly for the photo…"

"Why did I think I'd find a sympathetic ear here?" Harry asked no one in particular. 

"I'm very sympathetic," Hermione huffed. "I just think you should have expected this eventually, as you had no intention of becoming celibate."

Again, Harry felt his face heat. "I could have gone my whole life without you seeing that picture and been perfectly happy."

She looked down at the paper again, assessing. "Oh, I don't know. You're extremely photogenic, your – friend is very attractive, and you do have a way with your hands."

"Hermione," Ron groaned. 

"Well, he does. This is a very sexy photo."

"Sexy sexy sexy…." Rose chanted, chewing pink and yellow cereal with her mouth open.

"Charming," Hermione drawled. She looked at Ron. "This is your gene pool."

"That's not nice," he said, grabbing up a cloth to wipe Rose's chin. He smiled into her elfin face when she smiled up at him. "But it's probably true, isn't it Rosie? Are you my girl?"

She shook her head. "Mummy's girl."

Hermione preened and Harry sighed. "Guys, I don't mean to be an arse," sparing a quick glance to Rose who was thankfully shoveling handfuls of cereal into her mouth, "but…"

"We aren't solving your problem." Hermione folded the paper closed. "All right, how bad was the owl situation outside your flat?"

"Pretty bad," he said. "At least a dozen owls, half of them howlers."

She grimaced. "That's not good. And it's only a matter of time, if they keep being returned, before they start finding you here or sending them on to the Burrow."

"Oh, no, no, no," Harry said, his voice hard. "I will not have either you or Molly and Arthur pestered with this crap."

Hermione bit her lower lip thoughtfully. "I still think you should issue a statement," she said. He rolled his eyes. "Harry, it is the only way to stop this. You give an interview…"

"I will not give Skeeter an interview!" 

"I didn't say Skeeter, did I? And you came here asking for our help, remember?" Harry sighed, but nodded. "So, then listen; issue a statement through someone other than the _Prophet_ , then maybe… disappear for a while."

Harry frowned. "Disappear?"

"Go away for a bit," she went on, clearly warming to her topic. "Go on holiday. You never do that."

Harry looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "And go where? I don't take a holiday because…." He shrugged. "I don't have any reason to."

She looked meaningfully at the front page of the _Prophet_. "Well, now you do." Her eyes lit up. "And I know the perfect place!"

"Where?" Harry asked, skeptical. 

"Ron, Luna's cabin." She gave her husband a meaningful look. 

"What? Oh!" Something seemed to clear in Ron's eyes. "The one in Finland?"

"Finland?" Harry said, his voice climbing an octave. "Why the hell would I go to Finland?"

"Because your good friend Luna owns a lovely little cabin right on a lake in an absolutely gorgeous area of Finland, where _no one will be able to find you_. You have to Portkey in, and only your Secret Keeper will know the exact location. Ron and I won't even know."

"Wait." Harry shook his head. "You're suggesting I go to a cabin in Finland that you've clearly been to, but you don't know exactly where it is? How does that work?"

"The only person who knows exactly where it is, is the Secret Keeper. Weren't you listening?"

"And the Secret Keeper is _Luna_?" Harry shook his head. "I don't know Hermione…"

She gave him a stern look. "Luna may be a bit…"

"Cracked," Ron provided. Hermione turned to glare at him. "What? She is? Sweet as triffle but utterly mad."

"Be that as it may," Hermione said, turning back to Harry, "you know she'd rather die than betray a secret."

Harry paused. That was true. There was no more loyal person on the planet than Luna. 

"And," Hermione went on, her eyes brightening, "you could make a statement to the _Quibbler_!"

Harry was horrified. But apparently, Ron was even more so. 

"Hermione! You can't be serious about having Harry come out in Luna's insane magazine. All she publishes is rubbish about wrackspurts and the love lives of Cornish Pixies!"

Hermione's smile was devious. "But just think how livid Skeeter would be to be scooped by the Quibbler?" Her lips began to quiver. "It would be worth it just to watch her head explode."

Harry still thought the whole idea was cracked, but he couldn't deny he found the idea of seeing Skeeter scooped by Luna's published ramblings appealing. 

And the more he thought about it, the more appealing it became.

hdhdhd

Hermione left to use the Floo in their bedroom. When she came out she let Harry know that Luna was thrilled to publish Harry's statement. 

"And she said the cabin is currently unoccupied. You can rent it for the next few weeks, or however long it takes for this all to blow over," Hermione said happily. 

Harry nodded. "So now what?"

"Let me take a quick shower and dress. Then you and I will go meet with Luna, you'll give her a statement and she'll arrange the Portkey to the cabin."

"Hey," said Ron, sounding affronted, "what about me?"

"You, darling," said Hermione rushing past him with a pat on the shoulder, "will brush your daughter's hair and get her dressed."

"Hermione…" Ron whined. 

Harry laughed. "Give it up, man. You said it before… _she's a force of nature, your girl._

"I liked it better when her _force_ was directed at you," Ron grumbled. 

An hour or so later, Harry found himself sitting at the kitchen table in Luna's flat as Hermione dictated a statement for Luna to print in the morning edition of the _Quibbler_.

Knowing that Luna didn't subscribe to the _Prophet_ , Hermione had brought a copy with her and it was currently lying on the table. The photo loop playing over and over and over. Finally reaching his humiliation limit, Harry reached over and flipped to the back so that the Quidditch scores were visible. 

"It's really a very lovely photo, Harry," Luna said dreamily. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm not ashamed," Harry said hotly. "I'd just have preferred to keep my private life; well, private."

Luna tilted her head. "Well it never really has been, has it? You've been news since the time you were a small child." Luna chewed on the end of her quill. "Which I suppose is why you feel the need to get away for a bit."

Harry nodded.

"I think you'll like the cabin," Luna told him. "It's rustic, but it can be quite romantic."

Harry choked. "Romantic? Luna, I'm not looking for romance. I just need a place to stay for a bit until this goes away."

"Of course," Luna replied with a smile. "No one really _looks_ for romance, do they? It just seems to show up at the right time."

"Luna, Harry needs the quiet of the cabin," Hermione said tentatively. "You understand that, right?"

Luna looked insulted. "I've seen the paper. I know why he wants to hide."

"I prefer to think of it as _diffusing the situation_ , myself," Harry said with a smile at Luna. She returned it, her blue eyes shining.

"You should think of it however you want, Harry." Luna made a few notes following Hermione's painstakingly crafted statement, then rolled the parchment into a tube, tying it with a bit of pink ribbon. "All right then, you go pack, Harry. And remember; even though it's spring, it gets quite cold there at night so include warm clothing. I'll arrange for the Portkey while you're gone."

They all stood, Hermione eyeing the parchment Luna held with a trace of nervousness. "You will publish the statement… just as it is, won't you, Luna?"

Luna's smile was easy. "Of course."

Harry paused as he and Hermione headed toward the fireplace so that he could Floo home and pack. He caught Luna's upper arm, holding it gently. "Thank you, Luna," he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "This means a lot."

She patted his cheek. "You're welcome. Now, run along. I have things to do." 

Harry's last view of her as they spun away in the fireplaces green flames was bent over her table, rapidly writing on another piece of parchment.

hdhdhd

Even as they were emerging from the Floo, the sound of rapping and tapping from the windows was almost deafening. 

"Oh, honestly." Hermione scowled. She opened the window and Harry ducked as dozens of owls swooped into the kitchen. They bumped into one another in their rush to deposit their burdens on his kitchen table, knocking each other around until finally, the last of them flew back out, disappearing into the cloudy afternoon sky. With a neat wave of her wand, Hermione separated out the howlers from the rest and blasted them to smoking, bright red rubble. With another wave she _Vanished_ the debris, stacking the rest of the parchments into a neat pile before shrinking the whole of it and sending it all into her open handbag. "I'll deal with these while you're gone."

Hermione, you don't need to do that," Harry said. "I can handle it."

She dismissed that with a wave of her hand. "You're going away to rest, not deal with this rubbish. If there's anything I think you should see, I'll send it on to you. All right?"

Actually he thought it was bit high handed of her, but he didn't really feel in a position to complain. He nodded and headed off to his bedroom to pack his bags.

hdhdhd

Harry returned to Luna's over an hour later. He'd originally packed for a fortnight, but at Hermione's insistence he'd added enough clothing to be gone for a month. Knowing his dear friend as well as he did, he wisely chose not to tell her he had no intention of being gone that long and instead added things to his bags and shrunk them to fit in his pockets.

"Have everything you need?" Luna asked cheerfully. "I hope you've packed some things to read." She smiled at his nod. "There are a few things we need to go over before the Portkey activates. First, your food will be delivered tomorrow. There will be enough staples at the cabin to get you through the rest of today and breakfast tomorrow. When you arrive, you'll find a charmed parchment on the table. Plan your menu for the week and then write down what you'll need. The parchment appears to me only once you've written 'I'm finished' on the bottom of it. Your supplies will be delivered approximately two hours after your request."

Harry was beginning to think this _hideaway_ of Luna's might not be such a good idea. "What happens if I want something besides food?" he asked tersely. "Like my broom or — I dunno, a bottle of Firewhisky? Does that magically appear too?" 

"Your needs will be taken care of, Harry." Luna looked directly into Harry's eyes. "Do you trust me?"

Harry longed to say 'no' but sighed and said, "Of course I do, Luna."

"Good." She smiled. "Oh and so you know, the Floo is always connected to this office and I've taken the liberty of adding Ron and Hermione's Floo to the cabin network. And it's only for communication, not travel. The only way to and from the cabin is by Portkey. Now, if you're ready." She waited for his nod then took Harry's hand and wrapped it around a small figurine before waving her wand in a complicated motion. The last thing he saw as he spun away was Luna's smile whirling into the darkness. 

Harry landed with crash in the middle of a good-sized room. He lay for a moment staring up at a beamed ceiling, then pushed up to sit. There was a sofa and a rocking chair near a fireplace on one side of the room and a desk and chair with a beautifully made wooden hutch on the other. There were logs already set for a fire in a huge rock fireplace and in spite of the sunshine streaming into the room, Harry felt a chill. He drew his wand from inside his sleeve and cast and _Incendio_ to start a fire.

Pushing to his feet, he took a quick tour of the three bedrooms, one so small the bed barely fit into it. Harry's thoughts were immediately drawn to the cupboard under his aunt and uncle's stairs, and he decided not to use that one. Instead he chose one with a large four-poster that was closest to the living room and the fire. There was a decided chill lingering in the rooms still removed from the roaring fire, and he shivered slightly as he made his way back to the dining area and a small but serviceable kitchen.

The cupboards were stocked with utensils and cooking pots, chunky ceramic plates and silverware. One cupboard held mugs and drinking glasses. On the counter there was a note from Luna letting him know that the food in the ice box was fresh. Harry grinned and opened the door to find six eggs, some cheese, a package of sausage and a quart of milk. A quick glance in the cupboard showed him a tin of beans and another of tomatoes, a small loaf of bread and a tin of tea. There was a bowl filled with sugar on the counter. 

"Looks like a fry-up until I get some more food in here," he said to the empty room. He moved to the desk and found Luna's charmed parchment waiting for him, but decided he could fill it out later. 

Harry unpacked his things, putting his clothes in the dresser in the bedroom and his small selection of books and Quidditch magazines on a table in the living room, then shrugged into a hoodie, deciding to take a look around outside. 

The cabin sat near the shore of a large lake, bordered on all sides by towering fir trees. As he wandered close to the deep blue water, Harry found a row boat and thought maybe he'd take it out on the lake the next day. The breeze lifting from the water was decidedly cold, and the idea of being out on it right then held no appeal at all. He wandered further, taking a small bridge over a stream that flowed right past the cabin to the lake, and spotted a small building just at the tree line. Peering in a small window in the door, Harry saw it was a sauna house. He'd never used one but thought it might be fun, and wondered if he'd find instructions in the cabin.

He could hear birds in the trees, and the occasional splash of a fish jumping in the lake. When the breeze picked up slightly, the sound of it moving through the thick branches was like a soft sigh, but other than that what stood out to Harry, aside from the stunning natural beauty, was the silence. It was so different from his London flat. Outside his windows he could usually hear the sound of traffic, even late at night. Here, there was nothing but the gentle sounds of nature and he took and released a deep breath, feeling some of the tension slip away from his shoulders. Maybe coming to the cabin had been a good thing. Glancing back toward the small sauna house, he decided to go through the house and see if he could find instructions. 

They were under the parchment for the grocery list, and he read them with a slight smile. He could almost hear Luna's sweet, sing song voice. Apparently it was a simple matter of lighting the stove with an incendio; the rocks that provided the heat would warm to the optimum temperature immediately. One had to merely pour water on them to provide the steam. And she warned of Finnish Wrackspurts, which were apparently far more avaricious than their English counterparts, and thrived in the damp heat of the sauna house. There were beech branches hanging on the interior wall; waving them, the note said, would discourage the little nuisances from taking up residence in one's ears. 

"Good to know," Harry murmured with a chuckle.

Feeling faintly self-conscious, even knowing there was no one around for miles, he stripped out of his clothes before wrapping a towel around his waist, then took his wand in hand. There were what looked like woven flip flops near the cabin back door, and he slipped on a pair before traversing the gravel path to the sauna house. The breeze was cold on his bare skin, and his nipples tightened into hard nubs and gooseflesh stood out on his shoulders and arms by the time he reached the small structure. Stepping inside was a relief. He lit the stove as instructed and within minutes the tiny house was filled with heat and steam, and he stripped off his towel, sitting on a bench that was built into the wall. Taking his glasses off and setting them aside, he leaned back and closed his eyes. 

He'd never sat in a sauna before, but he could see how it might become addictive. By the time he'd been inside for thirty minutes, he was sweating, perspiration dripping down his hair dripping down his neck and back, and pooling in between the hard muscles on his stomach. When he made the suggested ‘dash for a dunking' in the lake, he yipped and detoured to the left when he almost rain into the tail end of a reindeer because his glasses were still in the sauna house. He came up from under the water sputtering and laughing, dimly able to make out the figures of three large deer sprinting off into the woods. 

When he went back to the sauna to repeat the process, he went cautiously. By the time he'd done Luna's recommended ‘three sessions' he was limp and loose and exhausted. He managed to cobble together a dinner of eggs, sausage, tomatoes and beans, but he knew he'd be ready for something more by the next night and he took the chair in front of the fire to complete the grocery list. By the time he was done with it he was dozing, and he yawned as he scrawled ‘I'm finished' across the bottom. It was nine thirty and still light out, but Harry was ready for bed. Fortunately the curtains in the bedroom he'd chosen were thick and blocked most of the light, and he was asleep almost the moment his head hit the pillow.

When Harry woke the next morning, he felt more refreshed than he had in some time. After a quick breakfast of tea and toast, he decided a bit of time in the sauna and a quick dip in the lake would be the perfect start to his day. He honestly hadn't known what he'd think of the sauna when he first saw it, but he'd slept like a rock the night before and woke feeling great, and he could only attribute it to the sauna and the fresh air. With no schedule to keep and nowhere to be, he felt another ninety minutes between the sauna and the lake was well spent. He stripped off his pyjama pants and wrapped a towel around his waist, slipping into the flip flops. He started down the path, this time checking for any _wildlife_ in the vicinity before he headed out. After starting up the sauna, he dropped the towel on the bench and sat down to relax. His mind wandered and he found himself wondering how Hermione was fairing with the post. Smiling to himself, Harry decided it was now her problem and closed his eyes as he leaned back against the wall. After about a half hour, he stood and grabbed his towel before making his way to the beach. His glasses steamed up as he left the sauna, but he thought it was better to have a fuzzy view for any possible reindeer sightings than no view at all. The cool air hit him like a wall and he sucked in a breath as he jogged down the path to the lake. He set his glasses carefully on a log near the shore, then dashed into the water. 

After a quick dip, Harry merged from the icy water, shivering as he picked up his towel. He covered his head and began to rub his hair briskly, rivulets of cold water running down his body to his feet. 

"Water cold, is it, Potter?" drawled a familiar voice. 

Harry froze, jerking his head up, instinctively moving the towel to cover his bits. The figure was blurred but the white blond hair was unmistakable. "Malfoy?" Harry said incredulously. He hurriedly picked up his glasses from the log and shoved them on his face with the hand not holding the towel. Malfoy's sly remark finally registered, and Harry felt blood rushing into his face. He opened the towel, securing it around his waist.

"What the bloody fuck are you doing here?"

Draco looked amused. "At this precise moment, I'm trying to devise a slow and painful death for Lovegood." He lifted the box in his arms. "In addition to apparently delivering your groceries."

"But Luna never said…I just assumed…."

"Articulate as always, I see." One corner of Malfoy's full lips quirked upwards. 

"Oh, shut it," Harry said darkly. "I assumed the groceries would just appear. Luna never mentioned that anyone would be delivering them." 

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes apparently she kept a few little tidbits of information from both of us, didn't she? She didn't bother to tell me that you were her tenant, either. Now if you don't mind, I'll just leave these in the cabin." He turned on his heel and strode up the path. 

Harry shoved his feet into the flip flops before following Draco inside, pushing at his damp hair as he went. Draco had gone straight to the small table in the miniscule kitchen, setting down the box, and the space felt even smaller with Malfoy's rangy body filling it. Harry couldn't help but notice that the man, who he hadn't seen in years, had aged well. His fair hair hung over his forehead, pleasantly rumpled by the breeze, and his frame, which had seemed almost anorexic the last time Harry'd seen him, had filled out nicely. He was wearing Muggle jeans and a light blue polo shirt, and grey trainers. The sight, when he'd rarely seen Malfoy in anything other than Wizard's robes, was disarming.

"So… you work for Luna?" Harry said a bit awkwardly.

"Oh, well spotted, Potter." Malfoy shot him a look as he straightened from setting the box on the table. "Never have been able to put anything over on you."

"Oh, stop being a git, you… git." Harry huffed in irritation when Malfoy's eyes lightened with amusement. "I'm not used to being startled while I'm naked, all right? It's taking me a few minutes to get my wits back."

Malfoy's lips twitched. "You really mustn't leave me openings like that when we're discussing _wits_ , Potter. And after this week's _Prophet_ , I'd have thought being caught out in a compromising position would be old news." He pretended to look thoughtful, touching his chin with a long index finger. "Although now I recall, you weren't naked in the paper. Attempting to remove a blokes back molars with your tongue, but not naked."

Harry huffed, shaking his head. "You haven't changed a bit."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "You've no idea if I've changed or not." His eyes passed with unnerving thoroughness over Harry's body. "You, on the other hand…" He let his words trail off, turning abruptly to leave the cabin. Harry followed him. 

"Wait."

Malfoy stopped, turning back, his lips pursed. "What?"

"You didn't tell me what you're doing here."

"Potter, we've already discussed that, although I have heard the memory is the first thing to go." He smirked, and the expression was so reminiscent of their Hogwarts days it made Harry's breath catch. "I'm here. To deliver. Your groceries," he said, spacing his words and speaking slowly. His smirk widened. "You should probably go warm up, you know. The weather can be deceptively mild up here, and you can still get frostbite, even in the spring. You wouldn't want anything to turn black and fall off," he glanced pointedly at Harry's groin, "now would you?"

"You stupid wanker!" Harry began. Before he could get any further Malfoy shot him a smile and disappeared. "Merlin cursed son of a bitch," Harry growled, stomping back into the cabin and crossing straight to the fireplace. There was a small bowl on the roughhewn mantle, and he grabbed a handful of Floo powder, lit the fire with a wandless _Incendio_ and threw the coarse sand over the flames. They turned bright green. 

"Luna Lovegood's," he said tersely. After a moment he could see Luna's small, crowded sitting room but she wasn't in it. "Luna!" he called out. "Where are you?"

There was no answer, and he sat back on his heels, scowling into the flames.

A slow smile curled his lips and he threw another handful of powder into the flames. If Luna wasn't available, he knew someone else who might have the answers he wanted. When the flames flared green, he called out, "Hermione Weasley's bungalow."

When Hermione and Ron's kitchen came into view, Harry called out. "Hermione! Are you there?"

Moments later Hermione came rushing into the room. "Harry! Is everything all right?"

"Did you know Malfoy worked for Luna?" Harry blurted out.

Hermione knelt on a cushion on the hearth. "I'm not certain why it's relevant but yes, I was aware of it. Draco is the assistant editor for the _Quibbler_." 

"Oh, so he's an expert on Wrackspurts now, is he?"

"For your information, 'mister I only read the Quidditch scores unless I'm on the front page', the magazine has become a lot more serious since the war, Harry. And a lot more respected. She still posts the occasional mad article, but there's more substance there, too."

Harry snorted. 

"Don't believe it if you don't want to, but you might want to actually _read_ it before you pass judgement on it. With Draco as assistant editor the _Quibbler_ actually prints articles that the _Prophet_ won't. They make sure people know about the good and the bad in the Ministry and they publish some very good articles on Muggle relations."

Harry was incredulous. "Malfoy not only works with Luna, but actually is responsible for printing articles about getting along with Muggles? Pull the other one, Hermione."

"It happens to be true," she said primly, and Harry recognized the irritated angle of her chin. 

"Why in the world would Luna want to give that prat a job?"

Hermione bit at her lower lip before replying. "Well actually I think it was just that Luna was the only one generous and forgiving enough to give him a chance after the trials."

Harry pondered that for a moment, feeling a bit stung. Finally he blurted, "So, why the hell is he delivering my bloody groceries?"

"Maybe Luna was busy, Harry. I don't know. But if you really want to be a git about it, I imagine she could find someone else."

"Hermione," Harry moaned. "You don't understand. He turned up here when I was standing by the lake, stark bollocks naked!"

Her hand flew to cover her mouth and he had a sneaking suspicion she was covering a smile. "Oh, well. I don't imagine he considered it a hardship." Hermione barely stifled her giggle. 

"Hermione!"

She shrugged. "I'm just saying you've grown up quite nicely Harry. And I'm sure Draco appreciates a nice view when given the opportunity."

Harry stared at her, his mouth agape. "I can't believe you just said that. Hermione, we're talking MALFOY here."

"I know who we're talking about. He grew up quite nicely, too," Hermione smiled.

"He was wearing Muggle jeans...and trainers. I feel like the world just tilted on its axis."

"But I see you noticed."

"It was hard not to," Harry grumbled. "I was standing four feet from him."

Hermione grinned mischievously. "While you were naked?"

"I'd put a towel on, Hermione," Harry spluttered.

"Oh. Pity," she replied blithely.

She didn't sound the least bit sorry to Harry.

"Hermione! I can't believe you're taking this attitude. It was embarrassing!"

"Oh for merlin's sake, Harry," she said impatiently. "I have to go. Try Luna in a bit. I believe she closes the office at five." She gave him a wicked grin. "Unless it didn't really bother you that much. Oh, and go put on some clothes!" 

Within moments, Harry was staring at nothing but flames.

A Scandal, An Exile, A Snarky Blond Delivery Man and Three Reindeer

The next few days passed in a repeat; sauna's followed by dips in the lake and catching up on Quidditch Quarterly magazines. By the end of the first week Harry was becoming so bored, he'd taken to naming the reindeer that wandered near the cabin. Although tempted to call them Donner, Blitzen and Dasher – he finally settled on Randy, Rex and Ralph. Randy had the biggest antlers, Rex looked like he had a bad attitude and Ralph's antlers were uneven and he looked as if he'd run head first into a tree more than once. 

Deciding this level of detail about his four-legged neighbours was a sure sign that it was time for him to leave, he went inside and knelt at the hearth.

"Hermione Weasley's," he called out after throwing a handful of powder into the fire. He waited until he saw her kneel down. 

"You have to get me out of here!" Harry exclaimed before she'd even spoken. "I'm going crazy! I just named the reindeer that wander around the cabin!"

"You what?" she said with a laugh. Her smile quickly faded, however. "Harry, the _Prophet_ hasn't let up on your sexuality. They've even taken to printing interviews with what they're calling 'your paramours'."

"My what?"

"Love interests," Hermione says through gritted teeth. "Skeeter has supposedly found men who have slept with you and they are telling their stories."

"Fucking hell!" Harry shouts. "I need to come back now!"

"No, you don't." Hermione says firmly. "Do you actually believe for one moment that I'm allowing her to get away with this? I've already spoken to her and a retraction will be published tomorrow."

Harry glared at her.

"Oh don't give me that look, Harry Potter. I've know you for too many years. Yes, it's annoying. Yes, it's ridiculous. And yes, given half a chance I'd cheerfully strangle the bitch myself. I should have squished her while I had the opportunity. But the bottom line is, things are not calming down and I have to go to your flat twice a day to sort out the post."

Harry sagged slightly. "I never meant for this to become your burden, Hermione."

"I know," she said with a wan smile. "Just be patient. It shouldn't be too long before the whole thing blows over and you'll be able to return."  
They chatted for a few more minutes before there was a ruckus coming from another room, and Hermione said she needed to get Rose from her nap. Harry moved to the chair by the fire, lifting his legs to rest on the ottoman. He stared at the flames, his mind still on his conversation with Hermione. Scrubbing his hands over his face, Harry wondered when his life might actually be his own. Wasn't it enough that he'd saved everyone from _He who was insane_? When would he be able to have what so many of his friends had found? Was it too much to ask for a somewhat quiet life with someone who loved him for himself and not for what he'd done?

The warmth of the fire and the sound of the waves lapping on the shore lulled Harry to sleep. When he woke, flashes of his dreams crept into his conscious thoughts. He had been in his flat cooking dinner when a man came in and wrapped him in his arms. There was an air of familiarity about him. Harry sat up straight in surprise and shook his head. The man who'd wrapped him in his arms, who'd rested his chin on Harry's shoulder and asked what was for dinner was Malfoy! 

Getting up, Harry decided he needed to move, and set out to take a walk around the lake. He enjoyed the wildlife and even saw Rex and Ralph on his journey. Returning to the cabin, sometime later, sweaty but invigorated, Harry was surprised to find himself wondering if Malfoy would enjoy walking in the woods with him.

The exercise made Harry hungry, so he went into the kitchen to put together some lunch. He looked at his meagre choices in the ice box and decided to make pasta with tomatoes and vegetables. He could eat half of it for lunch and the remainder for his dinner. That would leave him eggs and toast with tinned beans for breakfast. He glanced over at the ordering parchment. He'd hoped he wouldn't need to use it again, but after his conversation with Hermione Harry knew there was no way he was going home anytime soon. 

After he ate, he sat at the desk and put together his shopping list, making sure this time to add in some chocolate biscuits, Jammie Dodgers, Hobnobs and a box of Crispy Minis Chocolate chip cereal. If he was going to be stuck here, he might as well indulge in some of his favourite foods to keep him company. After making sure he had some staples in the order too, he wrote 'I'm finished' and watched the writing disappear from the page. He couldn't help but wonder if Malfoy would be playing delivery boy again.

The following morning Harry woke early. While he ate his breakfast, he found himself looking out the window every few minutes. 

"Oh for Merlin's sake," he said to the empty room. "It's a food delivery, not a date." 

He'd finished eating and cleaned up his few dishes, and was feeling a bit at odds when a soft thump outside had Harry jumping to his feet and nervously patting his hair. 

With an attempted air at nonchalance, he went to the door and looked outside. It took all of his will power to keep the smile that was threatening to burst across his lips when he saw Malfoy walking up the path.

"Oh, it's you," he said to Malfoy, praying that his rapidly beating heart wasn't as loud as he thought it was.

"Expecting someone else, Potter?" Draco drawled. "Or was that hoping for someone else?"

"No," Harry said blinking as he struggled for a witty come-back. "You're fine. I mean – it's fine that it's you." Christ, where was a sink hole when you needed one, Harry thought.

Malfoy smirked and strolled past Harry into the cabin. He set the box of groceries on the table. "Planning a party, are you?" 

"Pardon?" Harry looked confused.

"All the desserts and sweets you asked for this time." Malfoy replied with a grin. "Thought maybe you were planning something."

Harry sighed. "No, just me, Randy, Rex and Ralph."

Draco's eyes went round as saucers and he spluttered. "All right then, I guess I should be going if you're having company."

Harry's brow furrowed and then he burst out laughing. "God, Malfoy. Randy, Rex and Ralph are the three reindeer who seem to think this cabin has the best grass around this side of the lake."

"You named the reindeer." It was more a statement than a question.

"It seemed rude to keep calling them, 'hey you' when they'd seen me naked." Malfoy's eyes lit with humour, and Harry rolled his eyes. "There's not a whole lot to do here, you know." He said it with a shrug. 

"Be that as it may, I should be going," Malfoy replied.

"Listen," Harry said impulsively, "would you like tea or....something?"

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow. "What exactly are you offering?"

Harry felt his face heat and spluttered something completely incomprehensible in reply. 

Malfoy began to laugh. Not a snicker, but a full on laugh. Harry was a bit surprised to realise he'd not heard Malfoy laugh like that before – not to mention the fact he liked the sound quite a lot.

"Kidding, Potter. But when you do a thing, you never do it halfway, do you?"

"What the hell does that mean?" Harry's hands clenched at his sides. 

"Just that a lot of us have come out since Hogwarts, but we managed not to be front page news for two weeks."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's not like I asked to be front page news."

"You're newsworthy, Potter. You always have been. One would think you'd be used to it by now."

Harry sat at the table, his fingers drumming lightly on the smooth surface. He looked up. "Honestly? I don't get it. All the attention, I mean."

Draco looked dumbfounded. "You don't get it."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I get the whole _I killed Voldemort_ thing. But since then? I've not done a damn thing that could be considered special and yet every fucking time I fart someone considers it news."

Malfoy stared at him and then grinned. "Well I suppose if you were farting bubbles or some such nonsense it would be much more remarkable and worthy of print."

Harry's mouth dropped open and then he began to laugh. He was nearly doubled over in laughter before he was able to stop. "You're really quite insane, you know that don't you, Malfoy?"

"I've been called worse. But seriously, Potter. If you wanted to keep your love life out of the news, it was probably unwise to be inspecting some bloke's tonsils with your tongue on a public street."

"Probably." Harry answered, his tone resigned. "Now, can I get you some tea?"

"I'm afraid I'll have to decline, and no one is more surprised than I am to find I'm actually sorry I can't stay. However I have an article I need to finish and it's on deadline for the upcoming edition."

Harry nodded. "Maybe next time."

"Maybe next time," Malfoy repeated. He gave Harry a lingering, considering look as he turned on the spot and vanished with a pop.

hdhdhd

Several days passed and Harry found that much of his time was spent in thought about Malfoy. It was easy enough to shift his thoughts to something else during the day, but at night it was a different story. His dreams were filled with a tall, lean blond doing all sorts of things that made Harry wake with a fairly painful erection. The afternoon before he'd taken a nap and had woken from a lovely dream with the need to shower and change his pants.

Harry was about to give in and place an order for some food…anything just to see if Malfoy would deliver it when he heard a familiar sound. He picked up his wand and was stepping up to the window when he heard a very recognizable voice. 

"Hey, Potter," it announced. "Hold fire, it's me."

"Oh you're hilarious," Harry grumbled as he hurried to the door and flung it open. "Malfoy? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?" He paled and placed a hand on the door jamb for support. "Oh Christ, did something happen to Hermione or Ron? Oh god, not Rosie."

"Get a grip, Potter," Malfoy said hurriedly. "They're all fine."

Harry exhaled heavily, then tilted his head and stared. "Then why are you here? I didn't order anything."

Malfoy looked a bit sheepish and a pink tinge rose on his cheeks. "I brought you some magazines." He held up his hand to show he was holding several issues of what appeared to be Quidditch magazines. "Can't have _Wonder Boy_ spending all his time talking to the wildlife, now can we?"

"Wow," was all Harry could manage at first. Then he scowled and said, "Don't call me that."

Draco shrugged. "Fine." He looked around for a moment, then back at Harry, his expression resolved. "Is that offer for tea still open? Or was that a once in a lifetime event?"

Harry smiled slowly, then turned to hold the door open. "Come on in. I might even let you share my Hobnobs."

"Good thing I know you're talking about biscuits."

Harry shook his head with a grin as Draco walked into the kitchen and sat at the table. Harry put water in the kettle. 

"So how long have you worked for Luna?" he asked conversationally, glancing over his shoulder. 

"You really don't read the papers do you, Potter? Oh wait, _I_ was the front page news for that. Forgot you only read it when you're on the front page." 

Harry turned to snap out a retort, but quickly saw the teasing glint in Malfoy's eyes and the smirk on his lips. 

"Actually, I rarely read any of the Wizarding publications," Harry said, leaning back against the counter. "Someone at the _Prophet_ , and I'm guessing it was Skeeter, decided to send me a copy of the edition with that lovely photo gracing the front page. Apparently she wanted to be sure I didn't miss her _scoop_."

"What I don't understand," Draco said, his head angled, "is why you were trying to keep it a secret." 

Harry looked at him for a long while before answering. "I wasn't trying to keep it a secret," he finally said. "I just didn't think it was anyone's business but my own and those I chose to tell. I have no problem with being gay – my problem is that the entire Wizarding community thinks they have a right to know and discuss it."

Draco pursed his lips. "But if you'd come out years ago, it wouldn't be big news now."

Harry held up his hands. "Trust me; I've had this discussion with Hermione. And looking at it now, yes, it probably would have been best if I'd have just put speculation to rest years ago." He sighed and shrugged. "But I didn't. So now I find myself hiding out in the middle of nowhere with no one but three reindeer for company."

Draco arched a brow. "I find I must take offense at that." 

"Well, up until about twenty minutes ago, Randy, Rex and Ralph were my only companions." He smiled at Malfoy as he poured water into the mugs he'd set on the table. "Although I will admit they were especially spectacular conversationalists."

Draco laughed out loud. Harry loved the sound of the rich, deep baritone. "I might have actually paid to see you discussing your woes with them."

"Don't knock it until you try it," Harry grinned. "They were actually quite sympathetic to my plight. I could see it in their eyes."

Draco chuckled, then looked around at the austere cabin. "I'm not sure I could spend much time here. Luna's offered it to me a few times, but I rather like the hustle and bustle of London. Frankly, I'm not sure I'd want to spend days on end with nothing but my own thoughts." He shuddered involuntarily. 

"It's not that bad," Harry said, struggling to keep his voice level. The last thing he needed was Malfoy to suspect what thoughts had occupied his mind much of the time for the past few days. "I find I quite enjoy the quiet, and the sauna is great." Thinking about the sauna made Harry think about Malfoy in the sauna. Malfoy in the sauna, naked. Malfoy in the sauna naked with naked Harry. He mentally shook his head and struggled for a new topic. "So what is it you do at the _Quibbler_?"

Draco leaned back, his mug between his palms. "In the beginning, anything Lovegood asked me to do. Including mucking out waste bins and crawling across the floor of her office to check under her desk for her Umgubular Slashkilter."

"You did not!" Harry exclaimed with a laugh.

"I most certainly did, to both jobs." He looked down at his cup, running his finger along the rim as he spoke. "I was desperate, Potter. No one would hire me except Luna. Even after she'd been held in the Manor, she gave me a chance."

Harry reached over and laid his hand on Draco's arm. "I don't believe she has a mean bone in her. She is truly the kindest person I know."

Draco cleared his throat. "Well it meant a lot to me and it still does. So what do I do for her? Any and every damn thing she asks. And when she's not looking I've helped her turn the _Quibbler_ into a fairly respectable magazine."

Harry was pretty sure Luna knew exactly what Malfoy had done to change the wizarding community's view of her magazine, but there was no way in hell he was going to say that. He pulled his hand back and wrapped it around his mug, but his fingers were tingling.

"So now that we've dissected your love life and spectacular 'outing'," Draco said, "could you please explain to me the appeal of par-cooking one's bollocks in a sauna?"

"You don't cook your balls. Merlin, your brain sometimes!" Harry teased. "The heat and the steam…it's very relaxing and then the dash to the lake and jumping into the cold water." He gave a satisfied sigh. "Well, it feels great."

Draco drained the last of his tea from his mug and set it on the table. "I'll take your word on that for now. I, unlike you, have a job and while my boss is quite understanding, I doubt she'd appreciate my spending the entire afternoon out of the office. Doing nothing."

Harry gave Draco a slight smile. "I'm not certain I'd call entertaining her tenant 'doing nothing', Malfoy."

"You realize we could volley this line of thinking back and forth for the better part of the afternoon. But at the end of the day, I still need to get back to my job and you still need to…do whatever it is you do all day. Although now you can do it whilst catching up on the latest hot Quidditch men." Draco said as he lifted a copy of _Out and About in Quidditch_ from the table and fanned through the pages. "That ought to keep you busy for at least the rest of today."

Draco tossed the magazine at Harry. "Hey," Harry said impulsively, "could you bring me a couple of back issues of the _Quibbler_ next time you come? I'd like to see what you've done to it."

Draco stared at him, as if waiting for Harry to make a joke. When he didn't, a pink stain crept over his cheeks. 

"Of course," he said shortly. He pulled his wand and Disapparated, and Harry sighed, then flipped through the Quidditch magazine, pausing to stare at the biceps of a beater from the Irish National team.

hdhdhd

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the front porch in one of the wooden rockers. With Malfoy gone, the cabin felt empty. He knew that was silly because – well he was the only one there. But now the solitude that he'd begun to enjoy was stifling. And wasn't that a revelation. The one person who'd made several years of Harry's life an absolute hell was now the person whose company he longed for. 

He was so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed one of the reindeer was very near the cabin, until a noise at his side startled him and he looked up.

"Oh hello, Ralph," Harry said, looking into the broad, benign face with a smile. "What are you doing over here? Shouldn't you be off with your buddies eating berries?"

Ralph tilted his head and looked over into the woods. Harry laughed and wondered if Ralph understood and perhaps had had a _reindeer argument_ with Rex and Randy. 

"You know," Harry said plaintively, "you really have the life. You get to wander in this beautiful countryside eating leaves and berries. No one cares if you like blokes or birds or are having some sort of kinky reindeer three way with Rex and Randy. Even better, no one is constantly trying to put your photo on the front page of a sodding newspaper!"

Ralph looked down at the biscuits Harry had brought outside with him. Reaching into the package, Harry pulled out two of the shortbread biscuits and set them on the rail. Ralph sniffed at them and then swept one into his mouth with his long tongue. 

"Like those, do you?" Harry wasn't particularly fond of the plain shortbread biscuit, but Malfoy had seemed to like them. "I'm really pathetic, you know? Not only am I talking to a reindeer, I'm sitting on the porch, holding onto a packet of biscuits that I don't really like. Just because Malfoy was eating them."

Harry watched as Ralph scooped the last biscuit into his mouth, turned and strolled back into the forest. He wondered if Ralph was going to go tell his reindeer buddies that he'd been able to con the pathetic human at the cabin out of some biscuits. And perhaps if they'd not made fun of his crooked antlers he'd have saved some for them.

Harry dropped his head into his hands. "Oh, Merlin! Now I'm fanaticizing about a reindeer's life." He stood and moved into the cabin to make some dinner.

He opened a tin of soup, heated it up and poured it into a bowl. He cut a large slice of bread from the loaf Malfoy had brought, slathered it in butter and carried it all to the table. The Quidditch magazines were still there and Harry leafed through one of them as he ate. He appreciated the toned bodies, but found his thoughts going back to a lithe blond with a wicked sense of humour. Malfoy had rolled the sleeves of his button down shirt up over his elbows, and Harry had been fascinated by the smooth, clear porcelain skin inside his elbows, wondering if it tasted as good as it looked. Harry finished his soup with little enthusiasm for the magazines, cleaned up his few dishes and left them to dry on the side board. 

He looked around the cabin, but nothing really appealed to him that evening. Even the sauna made him think about Malfoy and he was determined not to spend all of his time thinking about how he wished the man had stayed longer. 

Harry had become used to the fact that the sun didn't set until quite late at the cabin and found that the room darkening curtains at the windows in his room made it easy to shut out the sun. 

He decided perhaps sleeping would get thoughts of Malfoy out his mind, so he went into the bedroom, stripped down to his boxers and crawled under the covers. Unfortunately, sleep eluded him and despite trying to clear his mind, Harry found his thoughts constantly returning to Malfoy. Finally after tossing and turning, Harry fell into a fitful sleep.

_He pulled the fair-haired man closer. Their mouths pressed together and Harry ran his tongue gently against the other man's lips, moaning softly as they parted. The kiss moved quickly from tender to needy. Tongues twined together, followed by soft nips at Harry's jaw. He pulled their bodies together, feeling the other man's hard cock against his. Harry pressed forward and shifted his hips in a slow, seductive circle. His hand slid up the lithe back and into the silky blond hair…_

Harry woke with a start, barely registering that he was practically humping his mattress. Blond hair? Malfoy? 

"Oh damn," he muttered. "I can't be having sexual dreams about Malfoy!"

He tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but the persistent throbbing of his still-hard erection was not going away. Even the realization that Malfoy was the object of his current sexual fantasy did nothing to relieve the pressure. He tried to think of the unsexiest thing he could. _Dudley in a thong. Finch-Fletchly in a thong._ Harry shuddered. As disgusting as those thoughts were, his erection was not getting the message. 

"Fuck," he muttered. "Fine, then."

Harry lifted his arse off the mattress and pushed his pyjama pants off. There was a vial of lube he'd dropped into the drawer of the bedside table, and he reached over and pulled it out. Uncorking the top, he poured a good amount into his hand. 

He reclined onto his back, knees bent and feet planted on the mattress. When he wrapped his hand around his cock he couldn't stifle the moan of relief. His hand began to quickly pump up and down his shaft, twisting a bit at the top and swiping his thumb across the slit and under the foreskin. Without breaking his rhythm, he reached with his free hand between his legs to cup his bollocks and roll them with his fingers. His mind began to imagine that it was Malfoy's hand sliding up and down his cock, or Malfoy's mouth on him, his head bobbing over his lap, and Harry felt the delicious tight coil of need rising inside him. Briefly dumping more lube on his palm and slicking his fingers, he reached down again between his legs, running a finger around his furled opening. When he slid the digit inside he arched his hips, searching out one specific spot. He found it with a muffled cry, and with one last tug and twist of his hand, Harry cried out "Oh god, Draco!" His hips rose up and his world exploded as his cock pulsed thick, white streams against his abdomen. After a moment hanging in a frozen agony of pleasure, he fell back onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling, shocked he'd come so rapidly. He didn't think he'd popped of that quickly before in his life. 

Harry pulled his wand from under his pillow and quickly cast a cleansing spell over himself. He knew he'd feel itchy and regret not showering in the morning, but right now in his post orgasmic state he couldn't be arsed to care.

It was three days before Malfoy showed up again, not that Harry was counting or anything. Nor had he wanked himself raw thinking about the git. That would be pathetic. Harry was sitting on the front porch wondering what Luna would think if he added lube to his next shopping list. Then he smiled thinking about Malfoy bringing it and unpacking it – then using it. He was so wrapped in his fantasy, Harry completely missed the sound of someone landing on the path to the cabin. 

He had nearly dozed off when he heard the soft concussive sound. When he lifted his head, Draco was standing fewer than five feet away, staring at him. 

"You looked very pleased with yourself," Draco said, lips curled in a slight smile. 

"And I didn't expect you again." Harry stood. "Come to drop off some more illustrated reading material?"

Draco shook his head. "Why? Finished with them already? I'd have thought the pictures alone would keep you busy for at least a few days." He gave an unrepentant grin. "And if you actually read the articles you'd be set for a week."

"Oh har, har," Harry replied. "Things that slow at the _Quibbler_? Or are you hoping for an exclusive with me?"

"When I get an exclusive, Potter," Draco drawled, "it won't be anything printable."

Harry felt his cheeks heat. "Ah, so you're here for an interview with Ralph or would you prefer to chat with Rex?"

"You're just a bundle of laughs, aren't you?" Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out some red fabric. "Actually, I thought I'd take you up on your offer and try that sauna."

Harry's brow furrowed. "And that is?"

"Swim trunks. Not everyone is a heathen like you and wants to parade around in nothing."

"Well if you want to use the sauna, you're going to have to _parade around in nothing_. No clothing allowed. Only a towel to park your arse on," Harry answered with a grin.

"That anxious to see me naked, are you Potter?" Draco arched an elegant brow. "Not going to happen."

"Then you won't be allowed inside the sauna," Harry stated firmly. He raised a hand as Draco began to protest. "Look, it's on the instructions inside the cabin." He looked a bit sheepish. "And I may have tried it myself when I first arrived. I was a bit uncomfortable to have my bits dangling in the breeze after nearly running into the tail end of a reindeer, so I tried to go in the sauna in my jockeys second day."

"And…" Draco said, crossing his arms. 

"The door locked me outside and an insanely shrill voice told me that no clothing was allowed in the sauna. It's just one of the many occasions that I've provided entertainment for reindeer."

"Ah yes," Malfoy said, nodding somberly, "Randy, Rex and Ralph. Nice of you to do your part."

Harry shot him a wry look. "You're welcome to try for yourself if you don't believe me. I think the boys have had a slow day." 

Draco pondered for a moment before he shook his head. "Although I'm not entirely convinced this isn't simply a scheme you've devised to get my clothes off."

Harry's voice was low and thick when he replied. "Oh you'll know if I want you to take your clothes off, Malfoy. No schemes will be involved."

Draco stared at him, as if trying to read his face, then nodded.

"Okay then," Harry replied. "Let's go inside. You can use one of the extra bedrooms to get ready." 

They walked into the cabin. Harry stopped at a large cabinet just past the living room. "Let me grab a couple of towels." He handed one to Draco and kept the other for himself. "You can use the room at the end. Mine's right here." He gestured to the room on his right. "I'll meet you in the living room and let you look over the instructions."

Draco took the towel with a frown. "Can't you just tell me what I need to know while we're changing? It's not like I can't hear you talking down the hall."

While he was stripping off his clothes, Harry laughed and proceeded to instruct Draco on what to expect in the sauna, and the benefits of the _dash to the lake_ after sitting in the heat while he attached the towel around his hips. 

Draco came down the hall, towel wrapped low on his hips, and Harry tried to appear very cool while his heart pounded in his ears. Draco said something, but as Harry's brain had short circuited, he'd hadn't caught a word. "Sorry," Harry stammered, "I missed that."

"I said," Draco repeated, "ready to bake my privates."

Harry laughed as he led Draco to the door. "Oh hang on." Harry rushed over to the large cabinet again and pulled out another pair of woven flip flops. "Here, you'll need these to walk to the sauna." He set them on the floor for Draco to step into. "The path from the sauna to the lake is a bit rough too, so they'll help your feet then also."

He led Draco out the door and down the path, trying not to turn and stare at his pale shoulders as they went. Slipping out of their thongs at the door, they went inside and Harry used his wand to light the fire. After a few minutes he poured water from the bucket over the glowing rocks and watched as steam rose into the room.

Harry turned his back on Draco and removed his towel. He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a small sound of appreciation when the towel came off. He laid it on the bench and sat on it. "Just set your towel on the bench and then sit." Harry leaned back, closed his eyes and tried desperately not to peek as he heard Draco moving around before sitting down on the other end of the bench. 

After a moment Draco cleared his throat. "So this is all we do? Just sit here baking?"

"Yep," Harry replied, opening his eyes and forcing himself to look into Draco's face. "Sit back and relax." He pointed to some branches hung on the wall. "If you want you can use those and beat on yourself." At Draco's startled look, Harry smiled and continued. "It's supposed to relax your muscles. Personally I felt odd doing it, so I don't bother."

"I'll take your lead on that one. Never was much into self-flagellation."

"Good to know," Harry muttered. 

After that they sat in silence for several minutes. Finally Harry's curiosity got the better of him and he looked over at Draco. Thankfully Draco had his eyes closed and Harry was able to enjoy his view. Harry appreciated the long, lean line of the man. His shoulders were strong and muscular without being bulky, his chest shone with a sheen of sweat and drops clung to the fine blond hair that grew a bit darker below his waist. Finally unable to resist, his eyes moved down to look at the blond thatch of hair that sat above Draco's cock, then further. Harry noted that Draco's prick wasn't quite as thick as his own, but he was quite certain it was longer. Harry inhaled sharply as he imagined that lovely cock up his arse. 

As if he knew Harry was looking, Draco's eyes slowly opened and he pinned Harry with a look that told him he'd been caught. 

"Umm…" Harry stuttered. "I was just checking to see if you were ready to…uh…ready for the water. I mean to go cool off a bit in the lake."

Draco stood and stretched, arching his back. Harry couldn't help but notice that both Draco and his cock seemed to like the attention they were receiving. 

Harry tried to focus on Draco's long, elegant feet as he slipped on the flip flops and hurried the short distance down the path to the lake, but it was almost impossible with that amazing arse on full display. The muscles in his thighs flexed with each step, and Harry found himself desperately wanting to run his hands over the smooth skin.

He shoved his feet into his own reed slippers, following Draco's path into the lake, grateful for the icy water. If that didn't kill his erection, nothing could. He shuddered as he kicked off the slippers and jumped into the lake.

"Morgana's saggy tits!" Draco cried out as he came up from his _dip_ spluttering. "You didn't say it was fucking freezing in here!"

Harry laughed, dunking his own head into the frigid water. "I told you that we'd sit in the sauna and then head to the lake to cool down."

"Cool down, my arse!" Draco was standing in the chest deep water. "I think, no, I know my bollocks have retreated so far up into my body I may not see them for a month!"

Harry couldn't have asked for a better opening, and it appeared his body was taking over the decision making. He shifted over to stand next to Draco, close enough that he could feel the fine, pale back stiffen at the closeness of Harry's chest. The cool water swirled around them as he took another step and pressed their bodies together. "Oh," Harry said in a soft, silky voice, "I'm pretty sure I know how to coax them back into working order."

Draco turned his head and smiled at him over his shoulder. "You do, do you?"

Harry caught Draco's upper arms in his hands, and slowly but emphatically turned him until they were standing nearly nose to nose. Running a hand from Draco's shoulder down, Harry slid his palm over the curve of his arse and gave it a squeeze. "Definitely." 

"I thought we were meant to do this _sauna, then freeze our nuts off_ a few times to make it beneficial," Draco said, leaning his head down and running his lips over Harry's shoulder. Harry shuddered and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back as pleasure and relief filled his chest. He'd been so afraid Draco would reject him, or laugh at him. He was so glad he hadn't.

"I have a plan that is much more beneficial for both of us," Harry said, confident now that he wouldn't be refused, humming his approval when Draco's mouth found the side of his throat. "It involves a bed…inside."

Draco lifted his head, starring into Harry's eyes. "You're sure about this?" He asked lightly, as if the answer wouldn't matter to him one way or the other, but Harry wasn't fooled; he could see the need in his eyes and feel the hardness pressing into his even in the cold water.

"I am so sure," Harry answered. "Leave me alone in a cabin for a week with nothing but the sexiest grocery delivery boy on the planet, and my subconscious will come up with all sorts of delicious scenarios."

Draco grinned. "Is that right?" He slid his hand around Harry's waist.

"Definitely," Harry said. "Even Ralph told me I should jump you."

Draco's brow arched. "The reindeer told you he thought you should jump me?"

Harry nodded with faux solemnity. "I believe his exact words were 'I'd tap that'."

Draco made a face. "Potter, that's not only unnatural it's creepy. Besides," he went on, a fierce glow entering his eyes. "You're the only animal on this lake I'm interested in jumping. Now, enough chit chat." He grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him to the shore. "What are we waiting for? I certainly prefer a bed to standing in the middle of ice water."

Harry laughed as they slipped on their woven slippers and hurried up the path to the cabin. 

As he pulled the door closed behind them, Draco shoved him up against it, moving in to kiss him, all lips and teeth and sinuous tongue. Before conscious thought abandoned him completely, Harry made a mental note to send Luna and Hermione each a very large bouquet of flowers. One for Hermione for brilliantly suggesting this _get away_ place, and as Draco kissed his way down Harry’s stomach, dropping smoothly to his knees at his feet, another for Luna for providing impeccable customer service with her rental property.

fin


End file.
